Let it Flow
by Emerald Kitten
Summary: Daryl stared at the cut before him, transfixed by the ruby jewel that had appeared there. There was no way Carol could possibly know what effect blood had on him. If she had even the slightest notion he knew she would never have offered herself so casually. Response to USS CARYL Drabble Challenge. WARNING: Blood Kink involved.


Daryl had always been fascinated with the sight of blood. It wasn't that surprising really. During his childhood he'd seen enough of it courtesy of his bastard of an old man. His father had taken great delight in beating the ever-loving shit out of the littlest Dixon once Merle had flown the coop. All Daryl had to show for his childhood now was a back riddled in scars and an unusual obsession with fresh blood. As he grew older the blood obsession had changed from boyhood curiosity to sexual fixation.

When he was a kid it was ok, Hell it was expected to have a thing for blood. Boys were taught to fight and be rough and tough. Boys weren't supposed to be squeamish. But Daryl's fascination with blood had altered as he'd gotten older. The boyish delight of watching scary movies and playing war games grew and changed into arousal at the sight of blood other than his own no sooner had he hit puberty.

Walker blood didn't hold the same appeal for him thankfully. It was dead; stale. He could kill a herd of walkers and not bat an eye. Thank God for small miracles. He knew he was already messed up enough without having to worry about getting turned on every time he saw a bleeding walker. But fresh flowing blood did something to him. He knew he was fucked up and damaged but he just thought that was his lot in life. There was nothing he could do to stop how he thought and what he felt. He just tried to control the urges and get through it one day at time. He had been doing really well too. When they were surrounded by death each and every day - whether it was the walkers pressing against the straining prison fence or the flu epidemic that was spreading like wildfire - the last thing on his mind was how he could indulge his sexual craving.

When he saw Carol slice the tip of her finger open while she was making lunch something snapped in him. They were alone in the makeshift kitchen when disaster struck and she accidentally injured herself. He sat on the other side of the counter to her, cleaning his crossbow while she hummed contentedly. The gasp of pain she'd uttered killed the soft vibrations of her vocal chords instantly.

As soon as he saw that droplet poised on the end of her fingertip he wanted to know what it tasted like. He felt his mouth water at the thought of savouring the enticing liquid.

Daryl wanted to take her finger in his mouth and revel in the sweet coppery flavour he found there.

He froze, willing himself not to make a move. The blood was calling to him but he couldn't give in to his desire. Not like this; not with her. If he started sucking on her finger he didn't know if he'd be able to stop. He knew he and Carol had been gravitating towards each other for some time now. They shared something but Carol wasn't a freak like him. Daryl was not willing to risk destroying the bound that existed between them with something as stupid as not being able to control what his dick was pleading with him to do.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Carol asked softy, her voice breaking the spell she had unwittingly cast over him with her blood.

His eye's flickered up to her face just long enough to catch the questioning smile she levelled at him. He dropped his gaze back down to stare once again at the ruby jewel that had appeared on the tip of her left hand. Daryl shifted uncomfortably in his seat but refused to look away from the red dot. He couldn't look away from it.

Why did she have to ask him that question? If he told her what he was thinking he knew she'd turn tail and flee back into the safety of the prison and away from him. How could he possibly tell her that he was fantasising about licking the blood from her hand. There was no way she'd understand his compulsion, his _desire _to suckle on the tip of her finger like a new-born baby nestled against its mother's breast. And at that moment, sitting there with the scent of fresh blood lingering in the air Daryl wanted nothing more than to do just that with Carol's finger. That trickle of blood weaving down her hand and onto her arm made him want to draw blood from her himself. He wanted to bite down hard on her shoulder and mark her; make her bleed so he could taste all of her sweetness in his mouth. He licked his lips and hovered closer under the guise of inspecting the injury.

"It's just a little blood Daryl," she teased him, waving the offending extremity under his nose. "You want to kiss is better for me?" Carol asked with a chuckle.

He let his eyes flick up once again to her face. She was smiling playfully at him like she thought the idea of him actually complying with her request was the funniest thing in the world.

He stared at the cut before him, transfixed by the ruby jewel that had appeared there. There was no way she could possibly know what effect blood had on him. If she had even the slightest notion he knew she would never have offered herself so casually.

"Pretty please?" she begged, her eyes twinkling with mirth at the request. She flicked her wrist and a fresh trail of blood flowed down her hand, staining the skin left in its wake.

He was hypnotised by the flow of blood. The red was so enticing. It beckoned to Daryl like a siren singing to him across the ocean. The call of the blood was too strong; too much to ignore.

His lips were on her finger before he could stop himself. He kissed the tip lightly, his eyes locked on hers as he did what she requested. The smile on her face morphed into an expression of surprise before gasping again. The sound she made with this gasp wasn't pain-filled though like went she'd cut herself. It was colored with desire. But despite the shock and surprise she obviously felt at this turn of events her eyes stayed locked on his.

Good Lord, the blood tasted so sweet. Daryl had never thought Carol would be so sweet. She swirled about his mouth and trickled down his throat, invading his body. The one drop that had been on her finger wasn't enough though.

Daryl wanted more.

He wanted to bite her so badly. He wanted to sink his teeth into her skin and feel his mouth fill with her blood. But she had suffered enough at the hands of a man already. Daryl wasn't willing to mark her like his old man had him or Ed had done her. He dropped his gaze, severing their contact as his eyes fell to her arm to find the delicate line of blood that had snaked down her wrist earlier. Daryl moved his lips down to the base of her wrist where the coppery flow ended. The skin he found there was soft and smooth. The texture was only amplified by the presence of the blood now on its surface. Daryl placed a gentle kiss over her pulse point as the hand he had been cleaning his bow with shot out to gently cup her elbow. His fingers tightened on her skin as he held her to his mouth, determined not to waste a drop of the precious blood he found there. The exploration of her wrist continued as he kissed and licked a path across the bloody skin.

He felt Carol shudder at the contact and before he could stop himself he'd nipped a portion of her skin between his teeth, enjoying the feel of her in his mouth. The bite wasn't hard enough to draw blood but it was hard enough to elicit a second shudder from the woman standing on the other side of the bar.

His teeth raked over the skin of her palm as he imagined biting down and marking her there. The thought of Carol walking around with his own person brand was almost too much to bear. Her blood was almost too much to bear. It was sweeter than any other's he'd tasted before. Like an addict after the first taste of meth Daryl knew he was hooked. He needed another hit and he'd do anything to get it. But if he didn't stop now he would definitely be approaching the point of no return and he couldn't be like that with her. She wasn't fucked up like he was. Carol deserved so much better than what he had to offer.

Regretfully Daryl let his tongue travel back up her wrist, licking the previously stained skin clean as he moved. His eyes found hers again as he made the assent. Carol was breathing heavily but she didn't shy away from his touch. Daryl had to sudden urge to kiss not her wrist but her lips. The thought of Carol tasting her own blood dancing on his tongue almost killed his resolve to stop but Daryl knew he couldn't do that to her. He'd already overstepped the invisible boundary between them the moment he took that first drop of blood into his mouth.

Finally he reached her finger again; the point of origin. He let his mouth linger on the tip for a moment before kissing the enticing extremity a final goodbye.

"Better?" he asked, his voice coming out huskier than he thought possible. This mind was clouded with the sweet and simultaneously bitter taste she left in his mouth. His first taste of Carol would be his last; he was sure of it.

Carol nodded her head mutely, drawing her hand back against her chest and curling her fingers protectively into her palm. She glanced down at the limb cradled against her body as if shocked and disgusted by its mere proximity to her. Daryl took her silence as a sign of repulsion. Panic started to bubble up within him as the full gravity of what he had just done to her sunk in. He had been too caught up in the bloodlust he felt to control himself. How could he have let himself get so carried away? Especially with her? Carol deserved more than what he could offer. She didn't need an asshole like him trying to chomp down on her like a cheeseburger in a happy meal. Enough things in this shitty world now were out to eat you; she didn't need the added worry of Daryl's weird obsession to add to the list.

He picked up his crossbow, turned on his heal and stomped away from her, willing himself to walk fast as his legs could carry him. He wanted to run but he wouldn't allow himself to pussy out like that. What the fuck was wrong with him? She'd think he was some sort of kinky freak now! He'd never be able to look her in the eye again without remembering the sweet taste of her blood on his tongue.

"Daryl?"

Carol's voice halted him mid-step in the middle of the yard. He wanted to flee. He wanted to run until his legs screamed in objection and his lungs burned for oxygen. But as much as the forest was beckoning to him the pull of her voice and the promise of her blood called louder.

The hunter reluctantly turned to face her. He didn't know what he would find but the temptation her blood offered was too great to ignore.

Carol had come out from behind the counter to stand fully before him. The knife she had cut herself with earlier was once again in her hand. A tiny droplet of her life essence still clung stubbornly to the tip of the blade. At that moment Daryl thought that blade was quite possibly the luckiest thing the entire world. To have tasted the tiny woman's blood, to have bitten into her skin. Fuck, he envied that knife.

She grinned nervously at him, twisting her head to the side to expose the clean skin of her neck. She swiped the knife in her hand gently across the finger he had kissed moments ago, stopping Daryl's breath in his chest with that one deliberate action. With a triumphant grin Carol raised the hand she had just cut and pressed it against the unmarked skin of her neck, painting a crimson trail from her ear to her collarbone. "I think I cut myself again," she said, her grin turning from nervous to mischievous.

Daryl let go of the breath he'd been holding and smirked at the woman offering herself to him. He crossed the yard in three large strides and buried his head in the space between her head and shoulder, sighing with content as the scent of her blood hit his nostrils again. Carol's arms wrapped around his head, drawing him closer to the point of near suffocation. She shuddered when his teeth grazed the edge of her collarbone in his search for her sweet blood. Daryl found himself smiling uncontrollably as he suckled the taunt skin under his lips.

Maybe he wasn't that fucked up after all.

Maybe they both were.

Maybe it didn't matter anymore.

**A/N: Thank you for reading. This piece was written in response to the USS CARYL Kink/Non-kink prompt. I was fully intending on writing a piece for this challenge, but I have to say I never in a million years expected to be drawn to the blood kink prompt. There are just so many fabulous ideas to fill with this prompt it's hard to make a choice. I fully intend to write more than one submission for the challenge (fingers crossed anyway) but the problem is I do not write fast. Anyone familiar with my WIP's knows this to be 100% true. But I felt so inspired with the blood that I started writing this morning and I just couldn't stop. Hopefully you enjoyed what I did here and didn't think it was too out of character. And I in no way am implying anything negative about blood play. I think that someone like Daryl would be ashamed of his desires considering his upbringing and how nervous he is with Carol's flirting is all.**


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